Escort
by breeeliss
Summary: Bonnibel just wanted someone from campus security to walk her home after studying in the library late at night. She didn't expect Marceline, a young female security guard who was rude, infuriating, improper...and absolutely flippin' gorgeous. Bubbline AU.
1. Part I

**Title: **Escort

**Rating: **M

**Summary: **Bonnibel just wanted someone from campus security to walk her home after studying in the library late at night. She didn't expect Marceline, a young female security guard who was rude, infuriating, improper...and absolutely flippin' gorgeous. Bubbline AU.

**A/N: **I've been meaning to write some Bubbline for freakin' ages and I only just got around to it. Plus I seem to have a thing with College AU's lately. I don't know why, but they're fun to write. Haven't written for Adventure Time yet, so some reviews would be much appreciated since I'm only slowly figuring out what the hell I'm doing.

**Notes: **In a lot of Universities, you can call a number and campus security will walk you home to your dorm if it's late at night and you don't feel like comfortable going back by yourself. Pretty convenient, huh?

**OOO**

Escort

Part I

**OOO**

"Oh, shoot!"

The laptop screen went black almost at once and the backlights to her keyboard flickered off before Bonnibel's laptop was officially pronounced dead and of no further use to her. She cursed under her breathe and bit her lip as she kept tapping on her spacebar in vain in the hopes that maybe the computer just happened to go to sleep by accident and she hadn't just been interrupted right in the middle of her literature review paragraph. After roughly pressing the power button a dozen times to get just five more minutes of power, she sighed and pushed the laptop closed. Oh well. Thank Glob for Autosave.

The girl bent down underneath her desk to retrieve her bag, but was disappointed when she realized that she forgot to grab her computer charger yet again. She grimaced at the situation and let her bag plop back down on the carpeted floor with a _thunk!_ that resounded through the empty library.

_Well, so much for pulling an all-nighter. _

Bonnibel removed her glasses and pressed the heels of her palms into her eye sockets to try to make the ache go away. Apparently staring at a computer screen for nearly five hours wasn't exactly the most intelligent thing she had ever done. Now that the glaring light from the screen was no longer present, her eyes and her temples were already pounding in protest, demanding that they get the night off. She peeked out from behind her hands and looked around the study area she was in. She was met with nothing but an abysmally empty room and realized with a sigh that even the sophomore who had been sitting a few tables away from her had decided to call it a night.

Deciding that it wasn't worth staying here any longer with a dead laptop and little to no sleep, Bonnibel packed up her laptop and the rest of her books and headed down to the first floor of the library.

The librarian on duty was sitting at her desk by lamplight and flipping through a novel when she looked up and noticed the young university student trudging down the stairs, trying to hold back a yawn.

"Another late night, Ms. Bubblegum?" the librarian smirked knowingly behind her book. "I thought you would stay a little longer as per your track record."

Bonnibel shook her head and adjusted the strap to her shoulder bag. "My Lady died on me," she shrugged, patting her laptop fondly. "Besides, I don't think coffee is going to fix me tonight. I should probably just head in early."

"Early for you, I suppose," the librarian muttered disapprovingly, staring at her wristwatch.

The girl laughed and zipped up her pink windbreaker. "Thanks," she waved behind her before jogging down the front stairs and exiting the library.

The fact that Ooo University had twenty-four hour libraries was both a blessing and a curse. This one especially was often very quiet and had an excellent assortment of reading material on biochemistry, which Bonnibel desperately needed to read up on if she was ever going to finish typing up the write up for her senior thesis.

Honestly, all the lab work was easy. She had no problems cooping herself up in a lab conducting practical experiment, especially when they yielded results that were nothing short of fascinating. None of her dorm mates ever understood how she could possibly prefer the stuffy dark atmosphere of a biochem campus lab to the lively, crowded, and intoxicating rush of frat house parties, but the senior liked to think that she at least had her priorities straight. She didn't work her ass off in school to earn a degree for nothing.

The only drawback that Bonnibel could ever see to her studiousness is that she often lost track of time, tonight being a perfect example. This particular library—while always open, always quiet, and filled with all of the material she needed—was all the way at the edge of the campus and at least a fifteen minute walk away from her dorm house. During the day, that wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing. But she quickly found out that walking by herself through a big city campus like this one wasn't really a good idea.

The girl shuddered when she remembered what happened yesterday when she stood here late for the first night. Some creep that kept calling himself Ricardio was following her the whole way back to her dorm, talking about how beautiful she was and how they were just _made_ for each other and she just _had_ to stop acting so coy. She wondered if he was even a student here. He looked too old and way too peculiar to ever be a student at such a reputable university.

Sure enough, Bonnibel pulled out her cell and confirmed that is was 2:30am and dark as hell outside. She briefly wondered if she could muster up some courage and just walk—or run—the whole way there to avoid tangling into trouble, but the thought of running into that Ricardio guy, or any other creep for that matter, was just too disconcerting.

Bonnibel flipped through the university contacts that she kept for emergencies. It wasn't too late to call for a security escort. She heard that most of them were really nice and had no problems helping students back to their rooms when it was too late to really be considered safe. Bonnibel had never really seen the point of it until now, and was desperate to hear the voice of a kind security guard at the other end of the line to put her worries to rest.

She listened to the drone of the dial tone as she waited outside by the front door and kept her eyes open for any strange activity. After a few seconds, a voice on the other end of the line cleared their throat and answered. "Hello, Ooo Walking Escort service. Who's calling?"

Bonnibel cleared her throat. "Oh, um. My name's Bonnibel, and I was wondering if I could get a walk back to the Candy Kingdom Quad. I kinda don't want to go there by myself…"

"No problem, miss," the voice on the other end assured warmly. "Where are you?"

Bonnibel looked up at the sign hanging over the library door. "I'm at the twenty-four hour library at the Grasslands Quad. Right across the street from Tree Fort Coffee House."

The guard on the other end grunted in acknowledgment and proceeded to sift through some papers from the sound of it. Bonnibel zipped her jacket up higher and leaned against the door of the library until the voice spoke again. "Alright, Bonnibel?"

She straightened up. "Yes?"

"I have a guard stationed about a minute away. I'll radio her right now and she'll be over soon. Think you can hang tight for a couple of minutes?"

She nodded and breathed out in relief. "Thank you so much."

"No problem. Have a good night!" the guard said before hanging up the phone.

Well, at least that put her paranoia to rest. Hopefully having an intimidating guard next to her will stop any weirdoes from following her around again.

She sat down on the railing next to the building and started swiping around on her phone for a game to play until the guard came to get her. She could already start feeling her eyelids droop just from passing the first two levels. Maybe she was working too hard. She had been up for over 48 hours and was already starting to feel the exhaustion set in now that she wasn't working in front of a computer anymore. This senior thesis was just so much work and she had a lot of deadlines to keep up with. She rubbed at her eyes again and decided that she would sleep for at least a few hours and start working before class in the morning.

Bonnibel was about to clear level 6 when a small cough interrupted her thoughts.

"Hey. You're Bonnibel, right?"

Her eyes snapped up to the stranger in front of her, and her breathe caught in her throat.

The first thing she noticed was that this guard was _young_, and was probably only a few years older than herself. She was dressed in tight black slacks with knee high boots that didn't look to be part of the police uniform at all, but she did have on a loose short sleeve Ooo Police Department uniform shirt with her badge clipped on one of her belt loops. Her hair looked like it would have reached the bend of her knees had it been loose, but she had it swept in a sloppy ponytail over her right shoulder. Her arms were crossed and she was clicking her tongue against her teeth waiting for the senior to answer.

_Oh, Grod! What am I doing? Answer her, you idiot!_

Bonnibel fumbled with her phone, trying to pocket it and simultaneously hold her hand out. "Um, yeah, I'm—" She stumbled off of the railing slightly and immediately righted herself before she made a fool of herself and tumbled on the floor right in front of this woman. "I'm…I'm Bonnibel," she said with as much dignity as she could muster with her head held high. "Thanks for escorting me, Miss…"

The woman raised an eyebrow at the hand, but was smirking like Bonnibel was the brunt of some ridiculously amusing joke. Bonnibel frowned as the pale woman looked to the floor and let out an amused little laugh. The student was about to open her mouth and demand what exactly as so funny before she lifted her head and smiled with bright, glittering teeth.

"No 'Miss' needed. You can call me Marceline," the security guard introduced while taking the younger girl's hand and shaking it firmly. Bubblegum returned the gesture, still trying to reign in her clumsiness long enough to not embarrass herself any further than she already was.

"So," Marceline began, looking over her shoulder. "The Candy Kingdom Quad, right?"

Bonnibel tilted her head to the left a little bit and was able to see a strange tattoo across the guard's neck. They looked like two puncture wounds made to appear as if a vampire had bit her. The girl smirked and chuckled.

Marceline turned her head and frowned slightly. "What?"

Bonnibel shook her head and brought her hands up in defense. "No, nothing at all. It's just…" The girl pointed to her neck. "I saw your tattoo."

The guard's eyes widened in mild surprise. "Oh that old thing?" Marceline scoffed. "Eh, I got that thing years ago. Kinda stupid now that I think about it, but at the time people thought it was the sickest shit ever. Why is it funny to you?"

"Oh, no, that wasn't it. I've just never seen a tattoo like that before," she explained quickly.

Marceline narrowed her eyes and smirked in Bonnibel's direction. The senior stiffened at the gaze and immediately felt very self-conscious for reasons she couldn't understand. Her eyes darted back and forth nervously, and she started wringing her hands together. Why was she still staring at her? And more importantly, why was Bonnibel not looking away? The guard must have been spinning some serious mojo on her, because there was just no logical explanation for all of this. _Dang it, stop staring back at her, you idiot. _

"Um…is everything…?" Oh, darn it, she could feel her _ears_ blushing!

But before the senior could faint from sheer mortification, Marceline broke the spell and just laughed heartily. The guard mumbled something under her breath while she smiled and turned on her heel. "Come on, Bonnie. It's getting late and we need to get you home," she called over her shoulder.

Bonnibel blinked once…twice…before she shook her head out and nodded resolutely. "Oh! Yes, of…of course!" she told herself before she jogged down the steps to the library and walked in step with her escort.

Marceline shook her head and blew out a long whistle. "Are you always this antsy?"

_No. Actually I'm the epitome of discipline and self-control. Except your stupid, gorgeous eyes and charming smile are distracting the crap out of me!_

"I guess I'm just tired and a little out of it," Bonnibel said quickly, hoping this girl didn't have mind reading powers on top of hypnotic capabilities in order to tell what Bonnibel was _really_ thinking.

"Well, I'd imagine you are. I mean leaving the library this late at night, added to the fact that your eyes look all bugged out." Marceline leaned her head in close to Bonnibel's and stared straight into her eyes again, starling the senior so badly that she had grab her heart to calm it down. Seriously, did this girl have any sort of decorum or notion of personal space?

Bonnibel blinked self-consciously and cleared her throat. "What's your point?"

Marceline shrugged as she turned a corner. "Nothing. Just that you were probably in that library for hours staring at a damn computer screen all day. I mean seriously, dude. Get out. Freakin' go for a walk, bug some freshman, _something! _Coop yourself up all day like that, you'll go fuckin' mental."

The senior frowned and stood up a bit straighter. "Well, pardon me," she spoke up, valiantly trying to defend herself. "I'm pursuing a very demanding major. I need to put in the proper amount of effort if I'm going to graduate with the grades I need."

Marceline's nose wrinkled up as if she suddenly just got a whiff of something foul. "What major?"

Bonnibel smiled and preened a little when she answered. "Biochemistry, with a minor in applied physics."

"Jesus Christ," Marceline blurt out, looking positively disgusted. "Do you have time to breathe?"

Bonnibel looked affronted, but mainly horribly confused. "What on…of course I do. What makes you think I don't?"

"Just that I've seen biochem majors…you know, back when I was in college?" she clarified. "And those dudes looked like zombies. I mean they were practically crawling out the library hugging those coffee cups like they were a bottle of Bacardi. You never saw them around, either. Always shut in somewhere studying all the goddamn time." Marceline darted her eyes towards the girl and smirked in amusement. "You strike me as exactly that type."

Bonnibel glared. "You make it sound like a bad thing," she grumbled.

"Hey, don't bite my head off, but honestly, I never understood sacrificing happiness for sanity," Marceline explained with a blasé look plastered on her face.

"I am happy!" Bonnibel declared adamantly. Sure, there were plenty of premed and hard science major in Ooo who were probably miserable because they felt obligated to the subjects in some way or another—whether it be due to their parents or their impression of the current job market—but Bonnibel prided herself on the fact that she actually enjoyed studying science and performing experiments in the comfort of a laboratory. "Besides, science is probably the most ideal subject you could major in."

At that statement, Marceline truly started doubling over in laughter, so much so that the two of them had to stop in the middle of the road because the young guard couldn't catch her breath. The senior already felt an angry flush rising in her cheeks—seriously, what was it with this guard making her beet red all the time?—and felt like stomping her foot on the ground like a petulant child. "Was something I said funny?" she growled.

The girl finally straightened and sighed in amusement, but seemed to have totally glazed over whatever Bonnibel had just asked. Instead, Marceline reached over and ruffled the top of Bonnibel's head, probably just to annoy her. "Ah, you're one of _those_ people, then."

Bonnible immediately smacked the older girl's hand away and snapped, "What do you mean, one of those people? How dare you! Of all the rude, obnoxious things to say to someone—"

"Sweetie, let me give you a little bit of advice," Marceline replied sagely. "No path is more ideal or more lucrative than the other. Someone popping out of here with an art major can be just as successful as you. And science isn't the freakin' Holy Grail to life's problems. Take some appreciation for the other side of the picket fence, huh?"

"I never said that!" Bonnibel began to argue.

Marceline flipped her ponytail over her other shoulder, exposing her vampire tattoo again. "Didn't have to," she told her. "I bet you didn't appreciate _any_ of the liberal artsy classes you had to take to graduate, am I right?"

It was a bit harsh to say that the classes went unappreciated. She didn't want to make it seem like the classes were a waste of time. But honestly, sitting in a modern art appreciation course when she could have been filling up her schedule with an advanced physics elective was nothing short of frustrating. It wasn't that she didn't see the value of the humanities. She just preferred to occupy her time with classes that she preferred rather than subjects that were just so unorthodox to her. What was so wrong with that? And she told Marceline all of this.

Marceline chuckled darkly, and for some reason Bonnibel shivered at the sound of it. The guard reached over and brushed some hair from Bonnibel's shoulder so that it hung straight down her back. The shivering got worse and Bonnibel had to hold in a squeak when a cold, but very pleasant finger accidently—or purposefully?—brushed along her clavicle during the effort.

"Really? Because you strike me as a chick who seems to like things that are a little unorthodox," Marceline leered, and suddenly the college student was getting very nervous about where this conversation was going. "Wouldn't you agree?" the guard asked with hooded eyes.

_Oh my Grod,_ Bonnibel screamed internaly. _Calm down, calm down, calmdowncalmdown!_

Bonnibel swallowed, her throat suddenly going dry. "Uh..." Bonnibel's mind was going blank, and it wasn't helping that Marceline was clearly being suggestive about something and Bonnnibel was clearly responding to the suggestiveness. Gosh, what the heck did she get herself into?

Marceline stopped and smiled confidently at the younger girl. "I mean, a girl like you has to have interests that are a little…out of the box, shall we say?" The guard started stepping closer. "Because I refuse to believe you're that closed minded," Marceline continued. "Then again this is all speculation." She was now only about half a foot away from the senior, and the younger girl was about ready to faint or have a heart attack or both. "But something tells me that I'm right on the money."

The severely dirty and sexually deprived part of Bonnibel's brain was already screaming at her to reach up and touch her or kiss her or return the clever banter or flirt back…_something!_ Because Bonnibel may have been a science dork, but she wasn't stupid when it came to things like this. And this was most certainly a come on that Bonnibel was not pushing away or refusing, even though she probably should have been. Come on, there had to be rules about fraternizing with other students, right?

_Not really, and you're at a pretty liberal university to boot, _Bonnibel answered herself. _No one will even care._

Before Bonnibel could make a decision and resolve her internal debate, Marceline backed off and jutted her chin behind Bonnibel's shoulder. "Well. This is you."

Bonnibel turned around and was shocked to see that they were already standing in front of her dorm building. How the heck did they get here without her noticing? Was Marceline distracting her that much? Ugh, she felt so mortified she just wanted to crawl up on her sheets and die. All that riling up, and she just backed off? What kind of game was she playing at?

"Oh…I, uh…I….thanks," Bonnibel muttered lamely. _Smooth, Bonnie. Smooth._

Marceline smiled brightly and gave a small salute. "No problem kiddo. Enjoy your night," she said as she started walking back to her post. But before Bonnibel turned to walk inside, Marceline called back to her over her shoulder. "Oh, and remember what I said, yeah?" With a final wink and a flirtatious smile, Marceline stalked away into the night, leaving Bonnibel in front of her building shocked, confused, and just a little turned on.

**OOO**

**a/n: **This is probably only going to be like four or five chapters long. But please review!


	2. Part II

**a/n: **Shit, I half forgot about this. Sorry, about that. Hopefully this update will make up for things. Thanks for all the reviews so far, by the way (didn't think I'd get this many!)

**Warnings: **Be prepared for a little…uh…"self love," lol.

**OOO**

Escort

Part II

**OOO**

The rest of the week was—to be quite frank—un-freaking-supportable.

Bonnibel couldn't even set up a damn titration apparatus properly without her thoughts dragging back to that stupid security guard that escorted her home a few nights ago.

That stupid, gorgeous, sexy security guard that really could just go to hell because Bonnibel needed to actually _concentrate _and do well in her classes and not have people in her lab section looking at her like she had spontaneously forgotten everything having to do with chemistry and basic science in general. She was known as a savant in the biochem department and she was _not_ letting anyone think any different because she couldn't get her thoughts under control.

Bonnibel always had something to say and was never so intimidated that she was rendered speechless. It came with the intelligence, the confidence, and the whole "natural born leader" thing. But for some reason, Marceline started asking her about her "out of the box" preferences in that low, sultry voice and suddenly Bonnibel couldn't even get a single proper sentence out without bumbling around and blushing like a virgin.

The perverted part of her mind wanted to stare the security guard in the face and say, yes actually, she did have out of the box preferences. Especially when it came to sex. In fact, she had a particular penchant for women and wouldn't really have minded if Marceline pinned her against a wall or bent her over a surface. In fact, Marceline could pretty much do whatever she wanted and Bonnibel was sure she would have been nothing but completely enthusiastic and completely, unabashedly needy.

Yeah. So not the thing she wanted to outwardly admit. And as long as Bonnibel had her way, she was not letting Marceline know _any_ of that. This whole distracted, school girl crush phase would last only a couple of days. After that, she could move past all of this horrifyingly vivid thoughts and just get back to what she did best: working and studying.

Of course, that would have been nice and easy if Marceline hadn't decided to pop up nearly everywhere on campus.

Seriously, Bonnibel was tempted to think it was happening on purpose if that thought wasn't completely ludicrous. It wasn't as if Marceline knew her schedule to know where Bonnibel was and when. But it certainly felt like it. Whenever Bonnibel scanned into the main campus library, there was Marceline sitting at the security desk, scanning her ID, and winking at her as she went inside. When Bonnibel came back to her dorm for a quick nap before her nightly study session, Marceline was sitting in the security booth right outside the Candy Kingdom Quad gates, singing along to her iPod and waving at Bonnibel as she passed. She was doing rounds in the science building, getting coffee in Bonnibel's favorite coffee shop, showing up for damage control when Bonnibel's dorm building had a surprise fire drill…it was borderline insanity!

Plus it didn't help that this morning, Bonnibel saw Marceline walking down the steps from the Student Affairs Building and almost had a heart attack. It was getting really warm out, and Marceline was brushing her fingers through her sweaty, messy bangs and collecting her loose hair into a high ponytail to show off her long neck. She had on some obscenely tight leather pants along with a particularly form fitting security shirt that was buttoned down half way…with drops of sweat sliding from her neck and down to the curve of her breasts…disappearing down the middle of her chest…and Bonnibel suddenly had this really weird craving to map out the path of that drop of sweat with her tongue and maybe push aside the shirt a little more so she could taste more skin…

…yeah, Bonnibel kind of embarrassed herself with that last thought. She wasn't usually one for fantasizing, but she was getting a ton of practice lately. Still, she was adamant. All of these accidental encounters and daydreams would end soon and then Bonnibel could finally get a moment of peace.

A week later, it seemed like that was a possibility. She holed herself up in the library again to try and really crack down on the introduction of her thesis and suffer through that Calc III problem set she had due in the morning that she admittedly forgotten about completely. Plus it was probably a good idea for her to read ahead in her physics textbook if she wanted to stay ahead in that class and actually pump up her participation grade. She might as well read ahead in Calc too while she was at it.

By the time she had gotten through all of the work she had planned to get done that evening, she looked at her phone and saw that it was just past four in the morning. Bonnibel raised an eyebrow at that—had she really been working that long?—but her staying up this late wasn't exactly strange. If anything, she expected to finish well past sunrise and have to run straight from the library to class. At least now she had time to shower and sleep.

She packed her things and walked down to the library lobby like she was on autopilot. She already texted the University security escort and asked for someone to come get her. It was far too late for her to be walking home today, and she really didn't feel like dealing with any random perverts on her way home at the moment.

Of course, that plan was shot straight to hell when, ten minutes later, Marceline showed up outside of the library to pick her up and take her home.

Marceline was still dressed in the same outfit as this morning: leather pants, knee-high boots, an open shirt, and her hair pulled up in a ponytail. Bonnibel could see her stupid vampire bite tattoo from here and she felt like smacking her own forehead and then punching that smirk off of the security woman's stupid, beautiful face.

"Oh come on!" Bonnibel couldn't help from exclaiming, pointing disbelievingly at Marceline. "Really? You again?" This was completely and utterly to consequence of god-awful bad luck. What were the chances she would come to pick her up twice in a row?

Marceline looked _way_ too amused. "Darling, I have pre-determined shifts. It's not my fault you keep calling in for escorts during the times I'm on duty."

"Don't you play dumb with me!" Bonnibel retorted. "You're doing it on purpose. I mean, come on. Those clothes?" It was like she was trying to classically seduce her.

"Oh, they're sick, right?" Marceline grinned wickedly, turning her leg out to examine her pants. "I got the pants out of this chill thrift shop downtown—"

"You're telling me that this…" Bonnibel hesitated. "…_getup_ is uniform?"

Marceline shrugged. "No, but you'd be surprised what you can get away with when your father is Head of Security."

Bonnibel had a rant locked and ready to go, but she stopped at the mention of Ooo's Head of Security. Hunson Abadeer was a domineering man with a sick sense of humor and the tendency to scare the life out of the students and actually _enjoy_ it. Once he actually made a kid faint when he was threatening to hang the kid on the University gates by the scruff of his neck for trying to steal furniture from the rec center. Basically, this was the _last_ person Bonnibel expected to be the father of the infuriating beauty in front of her.

"…he's your Dad?" she asked lamely, searching Marceline's face and trying to find a resemblance. She supposed it was there, kind of, sort of. Same eyes. Same skin tone. But still… "He's so…"

"Evil? Cruel? Freakin' weird?" Marceline offered helpfully with a sarcastic drawl. "Yeah, it's not just you. He's a goddamn embarrassment to our family, but whatever."

Bonnibel couldn't help but be intrigued by the notion. After all, now she was Marceline _Abadeer. _That was interesting information no matter how she acted around her. "What, is police work the family business or something?" she couldn't help but ask.

Marceline suddenly seemed _very_ disinterested in the conversation and shrugged whilst she scowled and looked towards the floor. "Yeah, but don't get any ideas about me. I'm only doing this to score money so that I can go launch my music career." Bonnibel raised an eyebrow at that—that was…actually kind of cool—but then Marceline went and ruined it when she met her eyes again and smirked. "But, that's all irrelevant since we have to get your sweet little ass home."

Bonnibel paused. "…my what?"

The security guard rolled her eyes and sighed loudly. "Oh hell, can you quit it with the questions and just walk?" she begged, pointing to the walkway out of the quad. "I want to get back to my air-conditioned post if that's alright with you. It's freakin' boiling out here."

She really should have said something and bit back at the sexual comment, but Marceline was right. It was too hot to be standing outside and arguing, and Bonnibel was actually starting to feel really tired and would have wanted nothing more than to hop into bed. With a grudging sigh, she adjusted the strap to her messenger bag, and followed Marceline out of the Grasslands quad and back towards Bonnibel's dorm.

They walked past the back entrance of the library where the tall windows in the back study room were. Inside, there were still a handful of student's studying into the night and slowing losing steam because of the late hour. Bonnibel was thankful that she had managed to get out of there before it was too late, but Marceline looked into the windows, looked at Bonnibel, and started shaking her head. "Unbelievable," she muttered to herself. "Four in the morning? You're impossible…"

"This is my normal bed time," the student defended. "I only need around four hours of sleep. It's fine."

"To then go back to class bright and early in the morning, huh?"

Bonnibel turned to the guard and lifted her chin. "What's it to you?"

Marceline held up her hands in defense and smiled. "Nothing, nothing. It just answered the single or taken question, that's all."

"The what?" Bonnibel questioned.

Marceline was trying to seem as blasé about this as possible, but there was a large, toothy smile threatening to break through that the older girl was trying desperately to hold back. "No, it's just that there's no way you have time for anyone else with this schedule."

She knew that Marceline was just trying to make a joke out of it—because apparently she always functioned in this perpetual state of teasing Bonnibel about literally _everything_ she could think of—but the accusation sounded a lot more serious than Marceline was taking it. She didn't really like the suggestion that she didn't have time for anyone. It made her sound like she was self-absorbed and overworked and she liked to think that that wasn't true.

She had all of her mentees in the biochemistry department that looked up to her. She met a funny, boisterous freshman in the dining hall the other day named Finn who she had taken up the habit of inviting to lunch on occasion since he was amusing company. She had acquaintances in her classes that she always exchanged pleasant words for. She didn't just function off of her own interests. She _interacted _with people.

But Bonnibel's mind was already supplying the correct counter argument. _You don't spend any extended time with people. Just enough to fill your daily quota so that no one can accuse you of being anti-social or too focused on work_.

This woman really had a habit of critiquing the way that Bonnibel lived her life.

Still, Bonnibel tried to deny it. "…I…I have time for people."

Marceline didn't look entirely convinced. She merely put her hands in her pockets—Bonnibel didn't know how she managed that when the pants looked like they were literally painted onto her skin—and looked at Bonnibel straight in eyes, speaking unabashedly and frankly. "Sorry, sweetie. But a person who's getting fucked on a regular basis is _not_ this uptight. Added to the fact that you're a pretty attractive girl and you're _still_ not getting any means that you take work way too seriously."

Bonnibel was shocked into silence. She didn't realize that Marceline had mentioned her lack of company and put a spin like _that_ on it. "Of all the…that is so completely rude and presumptuous and deplorable and…ugh!" she half-screamed, stomping her foot on the ground and whirling around completely to look Marceline dead in the eyes. "Why do you care about my sex life? This is harassment. I could report you!"

Marceline pouted, feigning looking hurt. "Aw, would you really? That's not very nice…"

"I'm not kidding!" Bonnibel spoke adamantly. "I mean you're practically flirting with me."

Marceline rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips like she was talking to a little girl. "Well shit, it's not like I was being subtle about it. God, you're more clueless than I thought."

"Of course you—wait…" Bonnibel paused. Marceline delicately lifted an eyebrow, and finally started chuckling in amusement. She continued walking ahead while Bonnibel looked at the guard's retreating back, still trying to process what she had heard. She shook her head. "Wait...wait, wait, wait, you actually admitted to that?"

Marceline smiled what turned out to be an extremely charming grin. "Was I supposed to deny it?"

Honestly, Bonnibel had sort of thought that Marceline was just being rude and uncouth and that she had every right to be upset. But there was a big difference between fantasizing about someone who was practically a stranger and probably not remotely interested in you at all and fantasizing about someone who outwardly admitted to flirting with you and finding you attractive. It was that distinction between thinking things because they were fun and self-serving and thinking things because you really wanted them to happen and that they actually maybe _could_ happen. Not that Bonnibel was expecting anything to come from these encounters! Of course not! But a little part of her couldn't help but find the admission extremely appealing.

Bonnibel was single and often had people who attempted to flirt with her or thought that she was pretty, but she tended not to pay too much attention to them as she usually never met anyone that captured her interest in that way. But this time, the attraction started on her end first, and suddenly it was being returned and it suddenly made all of her previous thoughts from the past week multiply tenfold and leave her face feeling warm and her chest humming with a cross between nervousness and excitement.

She looked down while she continued to follow Marceline. "I…well no, but…I didn't…I mean that's…"

Marceline reached over and tucked Bonnibel's hair behind her hair, revealing more of her face hidden by her hair. "You know, you look a lot less uptight when you're blushing. It's cute."

"Oh shut up!" Bonnibel snapped, finding her annoyance a lot easier to fall back on and also a great way at hiding her nervousness. She didn't want to give Marceline an edge, after all. "I'm not uptight. Would you quit saying that, and would you quit zeroing in on me?"

"First of all, yes. You are," Marceline corrected, as if Bonnibel being uptight was as apparent as the fact that it was currently night time or that the Earth was round. "Second, heaven forbid that someone actually shows you some attention that doesn't have to do with how high your GPA is."

"A high GPA doesn't mean a lack of a sex life," Bonnibel argued, trying to defend her intelligence. "I get off if you were curious."

For the first time, Marceline's face took on a look of shock that had no traces of the previous confidence and amusement that she was functioning on. If anything, she looked surprised and a little impressed, like she hadn't expected Bonnibel to be quite so frank. Bonnibel snapped her mouth shut the moment the words left her mouth. It was way too much information and she hadn't meant to relay it, but something about bickering with Marceline made her want to constantly one-up the woman and show that she didn't affect her. It was too late to take it back, so Bonnibel kept her head up and her face twisted in defiance despite the mortification she was feeling inside.

Marceline's shock slowly started to melt away into a smile, and then full-blown laughter. She bent over at the waist a little bit while she walked as she rode out the throes of her chortles. She turned to Bonnibel and spoke, sounding a little breathless. "Well, I wasn't asking about your masturbatory practices, because frankly that doesn't count. But good to know that your fingers and wrists are nice and strong," she leered with a wink.

Bonnibel's embarrassment was definitely written all over her face. "That wasn't what I—!"

"Hey, that's cool," Marceline insisted. "I mean, you're too busy for sex with people, so it's good to know that you're still keeping the engine running, if you know what I mean."

The younger girl actually felt her fingers closing into fists and trying to suppress the urge to scream. She was really starting to hate feeling like she was at the brunt of a joke that Marceline wasn't explaining. "I have sex with people." She fruitlessly tried to defend herself.

Marceline stopped walking, turned on Bonnibel, and sized her up. "Ah yeah? When was the last time?"

Bonnibel hesitated for a second before answering. "…a week ago."

"You're such a fuckin' liar," Marceline laughed. "But what's even more interesting is the fact that you feel the need to convince me that you sleep with people. Why does my opinion matter, hm?"

"It doesn't!" Bonnibel defended, feeling like she was losing control of the conversation. "I'm just saying…"

"Ah." Marceline looked like she had suddenly dawned upon something irresistible. She bit her lip and smiled. "You care what I think," she stated.

"God, I do not!" Bonnibel shouted.

"You care what I think! Wow," Marceline nodded, ignoring the younger girl's denial. "I'm truly touched, princess. No really, it's great that a little sugar cube like you takes what I say to heart."

"I do not!" the college student insisted, walking closer to Marceline. "I refuse to stand here while you—of all people!—stand here and pretend to know anything about me. Stop reading into things, stop trying to puzzle me out, and for the love of all that is good, stop…_staring_ at me like that…"

"Roving eyes" was always this horrible, clichéd line that Bonnibel only ever heard in her required English classes and always thought it was a ridiculous choice of words, but right now it seemed incredibly accurate. Marceline was unabashedly making sure to look at every single visible part of Bonnibel, letting her eyes linger and lazily drift up to the next tantalizing view. It was a head to toe appraisal and it made Bonnibel quiver with equal parts anger and anticipation. Marceline licked her lips and began to stare pointedly at the curve of Bonnibel's neck and the way that the senior was unconsciously nibbling on her lip as her abrasive anger and confidence slowly started to melt away into nervousness and apprehension. She didn't know how to combat against this. Usually she just punched and kneed people when they were being perverted or inappropriate, but in this case she couldn't deny that there was a part of her that was seriously enjoying the attention. Her cheeks were already getting really warm, and it had nothing to do with the hot weather.

Marceline stepped forward to try and close the distance between them, but Bonnibel took a step back in response. Marceline stepped forward, and Bonnibel retreated again. "Princess," she began. "I would be happy to stop staring at you like this if the case were that you weren't remotely interested. I'm not a pervert," she promised with a laugh. "But the fact of the matter is that every time I pass you or even come anywhere near your line of vision your face heats up like _mad_. Kinda like what it's doing right now."

Bonnibel's back hit the wall, and she inhaled sharply at the sensation. She didn't know what her problem was. All of a sudden, every retort and every argument that she was prepping for was out of her mind and completely out of reach. She didn't know what came over her, but Marceline suddenly looked like a woman on a mission, and Bonnibel was honestly too distracted by Marceline's dark eyes and full lips to really remember that she was supposed to be arguing with her in the first place. She knew that by not saying anything, she was only proving Marceline right, but she forgot why that was a bad thing.

Marceline stopped right in front of Bonnibel, their noses only a couple of inches apart. The older woman reached up, gently grabbed a lock of Bonnibel's hair that had escaped from behind her ear, and twirled it around her finger. "A girl tends to question why, you know?"

God, she could _smell_ her from here. She was wearing this really musky, woody perfume that made Bonnibel want to just bury her nose in the crook of the woman's neck and inhale. Suddenly, all of those fantasies from the week looked really freaking ridiculous compared to this. Honestly, what the hell was Bonnibel thinking trying to fight this woman off and deter her from pursuing her? I mean, they were _so_ close right now, closer than Bonnibel would have ever thought possible in real life. Hell, Bonnibel only really needed to tilt her head up just a tad and their lips would be touching.

_No_, she told herself inwardly. _Stop giving in without a fight. You're supposed to be angry with her_. "You're obviously…senile," Bonnibel argued weakly, swallowing the lump in her throat. Gosh, when was the last time someone had ever stood this close to her?

"Am I?" Marceline asked. Her finger curled out of Bonnibel's hair and moved to lightly trace the younger girls' jawline from her ear and down to her chin. Marceline's thumb brushed along Bonnibel's bottom lip ever so slightly before moving to trace up the other side of her jaw. The college student couldn't help but let out a huge sigh that was bubbling up in her chest. This wasn't fair. This really really wasn't fair. How was she supposed to continue to argue and keep face in front of this person when she was so attractive and staring at her lips like all she wanted to do was to kiss, bite, and lick them until she had Bonnibel moaning straight into her mouth?

Marceline must have seen her sudden nervousness, because she chuckled darkly—holy _crap_—and traced the tip of her nose up along Bonnibel's jawline—so, so slowly—until her lips were hovering just over the younger girl's ear. Marceline whispered hotly in her ear, "You like girls then, huh, Bonnibel?"

Bonnibel shivered. Her knees bent a little and suddenly she was really glad that there was a wall behind her. She was sure she would have stumbled or fallen over without it. Marceline's lips traced the shell of Bonnibel's ear and the college student coconsciously turned her head towards the sensation. Marceline chuckled straight into her ear. "It's okay," Marceline soothed. She kissed Bonnibel's cheek. "I like them too."

Marceline kissed further down Bonnibel's jaw as her hand slipped up to the girl's hip. Bonnibel could feel Marceline's fingers drawing little circles along her hip through the shirt she was wearing. Marceline's lips kept moving further and further down, and her hand eventually snuck underneath Bonnibel's shirt and started brushing her thumb along the smooth skin just above the girl's waistline. Bonnibel bit her lip and tried not to make any embarrassing noises.

"I like kissing them," Marceline continued, her lips making a tantalizing smacking sound when she left another kiss just underneath Bonnibel's chin. "…touching them." Her hand started to creep up higher, leaving Bonnibel's hip and moving up the girl's back. The guard's fingers reached the back of the younger girl's bra and then started to gently scrape their way back down the girl's back, making Bonnibel arch and let out a very soft cross between a gasp and a moan.

"…tasting them." Marceline's lips moved from the girl's jaw to her neck, her breath warming up Bonnibel's pulse. Marceline stuck her tongue out and licked a patch of skin along the side of Bonnibel's neck before kissing it slowly, and repeating the process down her neck, across her collarbone, and all the way back again. It must have been dumb luck that Marceline managed to start lavishing her attention on the most sensitive part of Bonnibel's body, but Bonnibel wasn't about to push the older woman away. Her nerves were on high alert and she was already closing her legs together in order to do something about the heat that was building and pooling lower and lower the longer Marceline kept teasing her. The guard's teeth lightly scratched over a particularly sensitive spot, and Bonnibel let out a proper moan at the sensation.

Marceline smiled and bit down harder, sucking at the skin lightly so as not to leave a mark. "What do you think, Bonnie?" she cooed affectionately. "Don't you agree?"

Bonnibel was nibbling on her lips so hard they probably looked so red and so downright kissable. "Um…I…_oh!_" Her kneed grew week and she sunk further down the wall. Marceline's hand on Bonnibel's hip steadied her while she kept lavishing attention on Bonnibel's neck and trying to get more pretty, desperate noises out of the younger girl.

Then, Bonnibel's heart felt like it was going to stop when Marceline finally came up and looked Bonnibel dead in the eyes. She tilted her head to the side and darted her eyes downward for a split second in order to stare at the younger girl's lips. Wow, she was _really_ close now. She was going to kiss her now, wasn't she? And Bonnibel was in no state of mind to even think about stopping her. In fact, she wasn't sure what she was going to do with herself if Marceline didn't kiss her _right now_. Oh, she just had to lean in just a little bit…

Marceline moved her lips a fraction of an inch closer and hummed in thought. "Hmm. Well," she pondered. "Well, I guess you can tell me later. I've gotta go switch posts."

Bonnibel blinked, and suddenly Marceline was stepping back completely and reaching up to tighten her ponytail. Bonnibel looked to her left and saw the small flight of stairs leading up to the entrance to her dorm. Bonnibel backed away from the wall. They were leaning against her dorm this whole time. How on Earth had she not noticed that? Was she really that distracted?

Bonnibel turned when Marceline whistled at her. The guard did a little bow and smiled charmingly. "Until next time, Bonnie. Don't stay up too late." With one final wink, Marceline turned on her heel and started walking back towards her new post.

Frustration didn't even begin to describe what Bonnibel was feeling right now. She was half tempted to march after Marceline, turn her around, and freaking kiss the crap out of her because she couldn't possibly plan to leave Bonnibel like this. But Marceline wasn't coming back, and had actually just turned the corner with her hands casually in her pockets while she hummed a sing to herself, as if she hadn't just been all over another girl just now. She just riled Bonnibel up and _left_ her like that. Who _did_ that?

Bonnibel rushed inside and tried to hide her red lips and blushing cheeks from the security guard who had scanned her into the building. Bonnibel rushed into the lobby, mashed her thumb into the elevator button, and quickly barreled into the elevator. As she leaned against the wall to try and get her breath back, she realized how totally not okay she was. Her skin still felt incredibly hypersensitive and her underwear was most definitely completely ruined. She wasn't calming down, and the throbbing was only getting worse.

She exited the elevator and quickly entered her single. She toed off her shoes, shut the door, and flung herself on her bed on her back. She lifted up her skirt and shimmied her underwear down her hips and across her ankles, too turned on to care that they were soaked and completely useless to her right now. Her fingers immediately slid along her lips, feeling her wetness, and Bonnibel groaned out loud into her room. These walls were paper thin, but she really didn't care.

Her fingers started circling around her clit and Bonnibel's imagination started getting ahead of her. She turned her head into her pillow and started moaning and riding her own fingers while she tried to think of what would have happened had the not been so overwhelmed and had actually gotten the gall to lean up and kiss Marceline senseless—screw pretenses and decorum.

She would have let the older woman press her into the wall, letting her surround her and grip her with insistence, prodding her mouth with intention. And Marceline looked like an _amazing_ kisser if her work on Bonnibel's neck was anything to go by. She would slid her tongue deliciously against her own and sucked on her lips in the way that Bonnibel loved. And while she was kissing her roughly and holding her chin still, her knee would have come in between Bonnibel's legs and kneaded against her core, placing pressure on the place that Bonnibel desperately wanted her to touch. She could perfectly picture herself rutting against the woman's legs to try and get more friction, more heat, and more attention. Bonnibel would have been happily moaning into her mouth, pushing her hips forward and begging Marceline to just _please_ touch her and stop teasing and just let her get some damn relief because she really couldn't take it anymore.

Then Marceline would smirk at her in that leering, gorgeous way she tended to smirk, move her hand slowly down Bonnibel's stomach, under her skirt, and press three of her fingers against Bonnibel's underwear, rubbing slowly and carefully, feeling her wetness of the fabric, and slowly sneaking one finger at a time underneath the band of her underwear until she was touching bare skin…

"Ah…oh h-hell." Her fingers were moving in and out of her so quickly, and her hips were canting upwards to try and hit the angle that she knew would have her screaming into her pillow in only a matter of seconds. Sure enough, Bonnibel felt her whole body jerk, and she had to bite her pillow to smother her scream while her fingers kept on moving inside of her, trying to prolong her orgasm for as long as was possible.

Bonnibel fell back onto the bed in a heap, gasping for breath and trying to calm her heartbeat down once the wave had passed. Her walls were still contracting around her fingers every few seconds, and Bonnibel couldn't remember the last time she had come so hard just from masturbating.

She cursed out loud, raking her free hand through her hair in frustration.

Well, this was bad.


	3. Part III

**a/n: **Ugh, not working this summer has made me so damn lazy.

**By the Way: **Flame Princess's first name (Phoebe) is canon. I just found this out!

**OOO**

Escort

Part III

**OOO**

By the time Bonnibel woke up the next morning, she realized that it was close to noon, and she had slept through her all of her classes.

She bolted out of bed, grabbed her cell phone, and had to blink a couple of times before she noticed that yes it was almost the afternoon, yes she was going to have to turn in that Chem homework late, and yes she came four times last night before exhausting herself and passing out naked in her bed.

Bonnibel wasn't one that masturbated often — in fact she found that she was often too tired at the end of every day to even bother with it — but even when she did, she only did enough to take the edge off, offer some reprieve from the stress of the day, and just go to bed.

But she saw herself in the mirror the next morning. Her hair was an absolute wreck, there were bite marks on her knuckles from where she was biting down on her hand last night, her lips were swollen from nibbling on them so hard, and there some small nail marks on her breasts from when she was palming them in time with her own fingers working in and out of her.

She looked like she had gotten laid last night. All of this was just masturbating to the thought of Marceline _finally_ touching like Bonnibel wanted her to.

Imagine if she _actually_ had sex with Marceline. Had _Marceline_ touching Bonnibel all over instead of herself.

Just the thought of that made Bonnibel shiver and look away from the mirror before she jumped back into bed and wasted away the rest of the day.

When she finally snuck out of her room with her shower caddy to go and get clean — all the while ignoring the smirks and eyebrow waggles of her neighbor who probably thought Bonnibel had some incredible sex last night — Bonnibel realized that maybe all of this self denial nonsense was getting to be a bit much. After all, you couldn't really say that you disliked someone when you got off four times to the thought of them.

So she made a decision that morning in front of her mirror after her shower.

Bonnibel grabbed the edges of her mirror, stared her reflection straight in the eye, and spoke calmly.

"Alright. Stop kidding yourself. You are severely attracted to Marceline, and she's probably one of the most gorgeous women you've ever met in your life."

There. Said and out in the open. As much as the security guard's brash, cocky, and invasive behavior made Bonnibel want to bolt — or at least give her a lecture on basic decorum — the senior didn't think her blood had ever boiled that hot for something in such a long time. Bonnibel never really _lusted _after people. Not actively. Passing attractions, sure. Momentary crushes, plenty. But the idea of Marceline was absolutely intoxicating, and after last night, that idea was already solidified in her body. There was no getting around it. There was only resolving it.

Of course, that was easier said than done, which led to Bonnibel's current problem.

Bonnibel was nursing a cup of coffee in her hands while she sat on the benches outside the main campus library and was staring across the lawns at the entrance gates of the university. There, Marceline was posted in her security booth, keeping an eye on everyone who entered and exited the campus, and was currently strumming on her bass guitar with her feet propped up on the desk. Her hair was up in a haphazard bun and she had shed her security shirt and remained in nothing but a black tank top along with her signature leather pants and tall boots.

The senior grumbled into her coffee cup and felt like smashing her head into the table. Marceline literally wasn't wearing anything exceptional. It was just a normal tank top and those same stupid discount leather pants and boots that she got from some hole-in-the-wall thrift shop that all of the hipsters on campus probably knew all about. But damn it if something about Marceline's arms showing — _God, they're so toned, does she work out? — _and her hair all piled up on the top of her head like she had just rolled out of bed and fixed her hair quickly just made Bonnibel want to stare.

Honestly, Marceline could have been reciting the freaking dictionary and Bonnibel would have sat there absolutely bewitched.

The senior wasn't used to pursuing people. Bonnibel had never really _dated_ anyone. In her freshman year, when the appeal of drinking and using less-than-legal drugs was too irresistible to pass up, she'd had a few brief flings with people in dorm rooms and against bar tables — almost exclusively women, now that she thought about it — but that appeal had ended almost as soon as it had started. Bonnibel was serious about her studies over everything else and it left her with no _time_ for things like dating and pining after people.

Not until now, at least. The only problem was that she didn't even know how to go about any of this. How do you walk up to someone and tell them that you think they're really hot and you would love to get to know them, go out for coffee with them, and let them fuck you good and hard into their mattress? There had to be rules to this sort of thing. A code of conduct. Unspoken boundaries. _Something! _Bonnibel wondered if it was normal for other people to distract you so thoroughly and keep you on concentrating on important things like school and studies and life. Surely if everyone with a crush went through this it'd be noticeable.

Maybe Bonnibel was just special. Or broken. Or being an idiot and paying _way_ too much attention to pretty girls. It could be the third option. Though, the second one was looking rather nice too. The first option made her feel better, but she knew it wasn't true. The only solution she had was to just go for it. If you're hungry, you eat food. If you're tired, you go get some sleep. It was just basic biology and logic. The principle of the thing, you know? That's all there was to it, and if Bonnibel was going to snap herself out of her funk, she needed to get her food and get her sleep.

It shouldn't have been that hard. Her food and her sleep were sitting in that security booth, so close yet so far away. Bonnibel had an advantage. It seemed that Marceline was interested, but was far too comfortable having the upper hand. If Bonnibel was going to get what she wanted and keep the interest of the thing that she wanted, she was going to have to get creative. The only question was how.

Bonnibel was in the middle of drafting silly, ludicrous plans in her head about how to grab Marceline by surprise or how to initiate a repeat of last night without seeming too eager when she heard some cheerful whistling coming from behind her. She had paid no mind to the noise until she saw someone out of the corner of her eye slip into the chair just opposite the one she was sitting at and drop a footlong sandwich from the dining hall wrapped neatly in sandwich paper.

"Hey Peebles? Thinkin' hard about something?"

Bonnibel averted her eyes away from the infuriating security guard and smiled calmly when she saw a familiar head of blond hair sitting across from her. She rubbed at one of her eyes tiredly and tried to greet him warmly. "Hello Finn. How have you been?"

Finn adjusted the white beanie on his head and ripped open his lunch. He nodded his chin towards Bonnibel's cup of coffee. "Is that all you're having?"

She shrugged and traced her finger around the rim of the paper cup. "Not really hungry," she sighed. "Woke up kind of late…" Understatement of the week, but Finn didn't need to know that.

"Woah, _what?_" Finn exclaimed. "Dude, you _never_ wake up late. Waking up early is like your status quo."

There wasn't a decent enough answer that Bonnibel could give without completely embarrassing herself so she settled for shrugging and mumbling into her coffee. "I had a rough morning."

It wasn't that Bonnibel didn't trust Finn with information regarding her love life. Far from it. In fact, Finn was altogether a very chill and open minded guy. A little spacey and kind of overenthusiastic, but his heart was in the right place. They'd been in the habit of sharing lunch whenever they could ever since Bonnibel met him mainly because he was hilarious company and was always a nice reprieve from her busy days where she would do nothing else but work and go to class. They hadn't known each other for very long, but she would certainly consider him one of the few friends she had. If there was anyone she could trust with some information, it was Finn. The boy was too chivalrous to betray her confidence.

But for some reason, Bonnibel was pretty sure her morning was something best left to herself. Just a feeling.

"Maybe it's cause you're working so much," Finn offered, biting into his sandwich and talking with his mouth full. "I mean...I get that you're like a genius and everything but you need a break like everyone else."

"I am taking breaks," Bonnibel argued. "I eat, sleep, and shower like everyone else."

Finn shook his head and jabbed his finger into the table for emphasis. "Nah, PB. That's stuff you _gotta_ do. I mean stuff that's fun and exciting and all that junk. You know. Take a day off or something. You look wasted."

Bonnibel looked down and picked at her nails. "I'm not _wasted_. I'm just a little...distracted, that's all." Gosh, she _really_ was underplaying this whole thing, wasn't she?

"Distracted about what?" Finn asked curiously. "Wait, don't tell me. It's about that formal dance coming up next month right? Dude, I don't know who I'm gonna ask either. I mean, there is that Flame Princess chick I met on Tinder. I heard her name was Phoebe or something. But I dunno if that's gonna work out. Seriously, she's just on this whole different plane, you feel me? Like, I totally like her and everything and she's gorgeous but — "

"No no, Finn," Bonnibel interjected quickly, feeling a long rant coming along. "It's not about that."

"Then what's up? Seriously, Bubs, I wanna help."

"That's the thing," Bonnibel admitted. She cradled her cheek in her hand and caught herself darting her eyes over the security booth where Marceline was currently shredding through a serious bass solo in the privacy of her security booth. "I don't know if you can help me out, Finn. It feels like this thing I have to figure out on my own." Marceline started smiling in the middle of her strumming, and Bonnibel suddenly found herself smiling in return. She hadn't taken the time to really appreciate how nice Marceline's smile was and how much she seemed to enjoy her music. It was kind of nice to watch, especially since Marceline didn't realize that Bonnibel was looking her way. Yeah, Finn definitely couldn't help her. Bonnibel was so far gone, they'd have to start sending out a search party for her soon.

It seemed that her ogling was getting pretty obvious because Finn turned around in his seat to look in the direction that Bonnibel was staring at. Finn glanced at Bonnibel with a raised brow. "What are you looking at?"

Bonnibel blinked and dropped her gaze immediately down to her cup of coffee. "No one! Er, nothing!" she squeaked. "I wasn't looking at anything."

"You got all dopey faced all of a sudden," Finn insisted, squinting his eyes curiously at his friend. "All smiling and staring off and whatever. Dude, are you _sick?_ You're starting to freak me out…"

Bonnibel dropped her arms onto the table and burrowed her head inside them so that her cheeks were obscured. No need for Finn to start freaking out over the blush that was probably slathered all over her face right now. It was bad enough that Bonnibel was starting to realize as the days went on that she was starting to become _very_ easy to read. She didn't need Finn to realize that too. "I was just daydreaming about something," she muttered. "Like I said, I've been having a rough morning."

But that didn't seem to be an answer that placated Finn. He darted his gaze from Bonnibel to the university gates, and back again. His nose was wrinkled in thought as he kept trying to put the pieces together. It wasn't until his fourth double take — when Marceline had stuck her head out of the window of her security booth to talk with another officer that was just walking by — that Finn's face finally broke out into a stunning smile of victory. He quickly turned back to the senior, his hands quickly slamming against the table as he braced himself for his next statement. "I know what you were staring at! You were staring at Marceline!"

"No I _wasn't_!" Bonnibel immediately screamed out in a panic. She blinked at the outburst and covered her mouth with her hands, realizing that she had gotten the attention of the students sitting at the surrounding tables who were currently staring at her. She rolled her eyes and buried her entire face in her arms and groaned in defeat. This was a mess. She couldn't keep her cool. This was an absolute, god awful, complete mess, and she really just needed to crawl back in her room and die there.

It didn't seem like Finn was at all deterred by Bonnibel's reaction. "Pbubs, it's totally cool. I mean, heck, have you _seen_ that chick shred on a guitar? It's so hard _not_ to stare."

Well, that wasn't the conclusion that Bonnibel was expecting Finn to draw. She lifted her face and stared at Finn in confusion. "Wait, what?"

"Marcy's a killer musician," Finn started to explain, his hands gesticulating with his excitement. "I was chatting her up the other day and she was telling me about this song that she was trying to write the other night. It was this really sick bassline, so I started beatboxing along with it, just cause I'm spontaneous like that. _Wow!_ You shoulda been there, Pbubs. It was musical fusion! Seriously, that is one radical dame."

Bonnibel bit at her lip in thought and asked tentatively, "Wait, so you are Marcy — err, Marceline are friends?"

Finn waved his hand and picked up his sandwich again. "Yeah, totally. Sometimes she lets me sit with her behind her desk when she's on duty and let's me listen to her demos. You know she's got a band right?"

Bless Finn and his inability to pick up on the obvious. Bonnibel quickly looked up to the say and said a small prayer to whatever invisible or imaginary God that was up there in the clouds that saved her from certain mortification. Deciding that this was a good enough opportunity to take advantage of some nice cover, Bonnibel leaned in, feigning interest, and exclaimed, "No, I didn't know she had a band. I did hear rumors that she was really into her music, but that's it. Is it a good band?"

"Is it a _good_ band?" Finn asked in mild shock. "The better question is, is it a flippin' _amazing _band? To which the answer would be yes! Yes, it is a flippin' amazing band. You need to check out their Facebook page. They're always posting videos from their shows, new demos, and times and places for their next performances. I mean, I know about that junk in advance because Marcy always tell me before she posts stuff, but you seriously need to get on the roll with this. I'm telling you. One song, and you'll be hooked."

His phone was already out, and Finn was frantically swiping through his apps while he bounced in his seat in excitement, muttering to himself how much she was going to absolutely love what he was about to show her. Finn slid his phone over to her and quickly rattled off a list of about four songs that he seemed to have known by heart that he insisted she listen to first before she listened to the rest of their albums on her own.

It wasn't like Bonnibel wasn't expecting much from Marceline's band, but for a young woman who worked full time as a security guard for most of her time, it seemed like Marceline had created quite the online presence for herself as a musician. The band was called Marceline and the Scream Queens and, according to their fan page on Facebook that Finn was currently showing her, Marceline was the bass player as well as the band's lead singer. Their page had thousands of likes and most of their posts consisted mainly of short videos of songs and demos — sometimes of the whole band, sometimes of just Marceline and her guitar — along with pictures of what looked to be some of their shows that seemed pretty packed for a band that wasn't particularly well known.

Heeding Finn's prodding, Bonnibel decided on a video entitled "_I'm Just Your Problem" _that looked like it was shot via a webcam in Marceline's room with nothing but a recording mic sitting on her desk. Marceline had nothing but her electric bass at her disposal, and the video immediately started off with Marceline strumming a gritty tune on her guitar. Altogether, it looked like the kind of thing that you could easily pluck off of YouTube, but it wasn't until Marceline started singing that Bonnibel was really starting to get what Finn was getting at in terms of Marceline's talent.

In other words, it was mindblowing.

If Bonnibel had to think of one thing that led to the band's success, it was definitely Marceline's voice. It had a warbled, melodic quality to it that you wouldn't think would work for a rock band, but actually fit incredibly well. It was absolutely hypnotizing, and suddenly Bonnibel realized that she wouldn't have minded hearing that voice right before she went to sleep or even hearing that voice directed at her in some rock ballad serenade with piercing gazes and sultry smiles. It was one of Bonnibel's best kept secrets that she was actually an avid music enthusiast, and something about Marceline's music had immediately drawn her in. Suddenly, she wanted to hear a lot more of it, if only to just keep listening to Marceline's voice.

It kept reminding her of Marceline's hearted whispers right next to Bonnibel's ear, and it was so easy to send herself back to that moment and want more of it. If only she could —

...wait a minute.

Bonnibel looked up from Finn's phone. "Wait, Finn. You said that Marceline does shows, right?"

"Oh yeah!" Finn nodded enthusiastically. "There's actually one coming up this weekend! I was gonna try and break the ice with Phoebe and ask her if she wanted to go with me. You know. Keep it all casual and whatever. Nothing serious."

It was a stretch, and there was no telling if anything was going to come of it, but Bonnibel couldn't think of any other way to knock Marceline off kilter and get the upper hand in whatever messed up little relationship they had going at the moment. Besides, it wasn't as if she really had anything to lose. Her dignity maybe. But she had decided to trash that this morning once she realized that she was thoroughly obsessed over a freakin' girl.

Deciding to cut her losses, Bonnibel smiled sweetly and handed Finn's phone back to him. "Where and what time?"

**OOO**

_Nightosphere_ was certainly not the kind of club Bonnibel ever would have found herself in under normal circumstances.

Then again, Bonnibel wasn't much of a clubber, so that right there killed the point. Rephrasing, _if_ Bonnibel had to pick a club to spend her time in, _Nightosphere_ certainly wouldn't have been her first pick. Or her second. Or her tenth.

Most of it had to do with the fact that she stuck out like a sore thumb. It took her close to an hour to find a suitable clubbing outfit that wouldn't totally make her look like a nerd in this place. A crop top, pleated schoolgirl skirt, and some tall boots were the best she could do. But compared to all the wild hairstyles, teenagers dotted with piercings and tattoos, and practically non existent outfits — honestly, she wore more in the _shower_ — Bonnibel actually felt like she dressed conservatively. Hell, she had half a mind to go to the tattoo parlor across the street and get her belly button pierced just so people would stop staring at her so intently like she was some sort of pariah.

Okay. So she was half kidding. But she was really starting to get annoyed at all the snickering. Her outfit wasn't that terrible, was it?

The line outside the club was so long that it started to wrap around the block, and Bonnibel was suddenly extremely relieved that she had gotten here early before the doors opened. Posters of _Marceline and the Screen Queens_ were posted just outside the doors and a few people standing on the line waiting to be let in were gushing over the poster and talking about the band as if they were a headliner at some huge concert. It seemed like the hype for the show was really intense.

Bonnibel nudged her elbow into Finn's side and leaned over to mutter in his ear. "This place is kind of..._different_. Isn't it?"

Finn turned away from whispering something in Phoebe's ear and regarded Bonnibel with a carefree smile. "Ah, don't worry. It's actually not that bad. I've been here a couple of times before. Marcy plays here all the time."

Finn's brilliantly red-headed date leaned forward to peek around Finn and said, "Please, this is nothing. You should see what it's like inside. I hear everyone gets packed in so tight you can barely move. It's gonna be great!" she keened excitedly.

"Hey, don't scare her off," Finn chuckled. He turned back to Bonnibel. "It gets a little packed. But seriously, Peebles. It's all good. Hearing Marceline play is gonna be so worth it, I promise."

So Finn said. But it seemed like he was more excited about spending an entire evening with his date more than anything else. And Phoebe — and really, what an odd girl — was more looking forward to the potential chaos that would no doubt ensue from having a rock concert in a club filled far past capacity. It seemed like the only one out of the three of them who actually just wanted to listen to the music was Bonnibel.

After they flashed their ID's and managed to push into the crowded club, Bonnibel could just peek over the heads of some of the taller clubbers and see a few unfamiliar heads bringing a drum set and a mic stand on the stage towards the back of the room. If Marceline was setting up on stage, Bonnibel couldn't see her. It was difficult to move around in this place, and there were too many people pushing, shoving, talking, and dancing to the pumping house music that was meant to hold everyone over until the show started.

Bonnibel nibbled on her lips and tucked her arms close to her. She quickly scanned the crowd and managed to find a series of couches tucked in the corner next to the bar that would do well enough for a vantage point. She certainly didn't come here just to _listen_ to Marceline.

"Finn," she shouted over the rabble. "I'm gonna go climb on top of those seats. Come!"

She was vaguely aware of Finn and Phoebe following behind her, but she was more concerned about carving a path. Bonnibel didn't come here to be shoved around by strangers and not manage to see anything. It took shoving over a few people and even crawling on the floor for a bit, but Bonnibel managed to climb on top of the backs of the couches, elevating herself just enough that she could see clear over everyone else's heads and also had a very decent view of the stage. From her embarrassingly thorough perusal of most of the songs, videos, and EP's that Marceline's band had released on their various websites, Bonnibel immediately recognized the drummer and lead guitarist setting up their amps and instruments on the stage. Marceline was still nowhere in sight.

Bonnibel cursed under her breath and was thankful at least that she had a seat of sorts. She sat down on the top of the backrest of the couch and kept her eyes firmly glued to the stage, eager to get a glimpse of Marceline the moment she came from backstage. Her nails were clicking against the wood paneling while Finn chuckled next to her. Her head whipped around towards him. "What?" she asked ill humoredly.

"Nothing, nothing," Finn laughed, shaking his head innocently. "I just didn't think you were such a big fan, that's all."

Something about the insinuation didn't sit well with her. Bonnibel appraised Finn carefully and sniffed. "What do you mean?"

"It's nothing bad, Bubs, honest," Finn insisted. "Trust me, I know. Chick's got some serious talent. But you're like...I don't know, _really_ excited."

Bonnibel tried to tell her mind to stop being embarrassed. "N-No, it's not...I'm just…" she stumbled for word. Damn, she seriously needed to start learning how to talk through her nerves. "I just really like her. Her music, I mean," she amended quickly. "I...really like her music."

"I dunno," Phoebe piped up from the other side of Finn. "Sounds like you really _really_ like her."

It didn't seem like Finn understood what his date was getting at, but Bonnibel immediately smartened up at the suggestion. "I don't!"

"I mean, I can sort of understand that," the redhead continued. "I respect the kind of vibe she gives off. Not that bad looking either, although I'm sure you'd know more about that than I would."

"Would you cut it out?" Bonnibel hissed irritably. "Stop grilling me about things you don't even know anything about."

Phoebe snorted. "I don't have to know anything. It's written all over you."

Finn piped in. "There's nothing wrong with being excited about a band," he tried to explain in an attempt to comfort Bonnibel. "You gotta own it."

"Hey, I _love_ her music. But with this one, I think it's a _little_ more than just being excited about the band, Finn," his date shrugged. "But then again, I apparently don't know what I'm talking about."

"You don't," Bonnibel defended. "I'm just enjoying a weekend out. I haven't had a break in a while, and I need it."

Suddenly, the club broke out into a violent applause and Phoebe smirked, jutting her chin behind Bonnibel. "Don't look now. I think the main attraction finally showed up." Suddenly Phoebe and Finn stood up on top of the couch and started clapping and cheering towards the stage as the club music started dimming and the sounds of a mic being cradled on the mic stand blasted through the club. Bonnibel immediately shot up and stood on her toes to try and get a good view of the stage, but the moment she did, her breathe caught in her throat.

If Bonnibel thought that the way Marceline dressed while she was on campus was distracting, what she was wearing on stage now was surely going to cause her to have a heart attack. Marceline was wearing a different pair of signature leather pants — one with rips and tears all along her legs and thighs, leaving glimpses of tempting skin all over for Bonnibel to immediately soak in. She was standing in front of the mic stand with some killer heels and a corset shirt that left her stomach and shoulders bare, and damn it all it just wasn't _fair_ how good she looked. She was almost sure that Phoebe was laughing at Bonnibel's direction, and thereby proving her suspicions, but the senior couldn't be bothered to care at the moment. Marceline looked downright _delectable_ up there. The singer combed her hand through her hair, pulling it away from her face and smirked into the microphone.

"There are a lot of you dorks out here tonight, aren't there?" The resulting roar of applause and shouts were practically deafening, and Marceline laughed into the microphone, adjusting her bass which looked more like an axe than an instrument. "Got nothing else better to do than to come and see us, huh?" She teasingly shook her head in disapproval and eyed the crowd. "Well, I'm not one for spoiling, but I guess the only thing to do here is to indulge you."

It was while Marceline was laughing at the following uproar that her eyes began to scan the entire crowd and finally landed on Bonnibel. There was this jolt of electricity or elation that shot straight through Bonnibel the minute Marceline recognized her. The bassist's eyes widened momentarily, and her confidence was shaken for only a moment. But then her eyes grew lidded and she made a show of appraising Bonnibel's outfit as well. Bonnibel immediately locked her knees together, suddenly feeling incredibly self conscious and incredibly _noticed_.

Marceline strummed a few notes on her bass and kept her eyes on Bonnibel. "Don't you kiddies worry. Have I got a show for you."

It was just a hunch, but Bonnibel had the feeling that the promise had a very different meaning for everyone else in the club than it did for her.

The show was fantastic — an hour long set of new songs and mastered demos that had people pulling out their phones to take videos and snap pictures like it was going out of style. Finn and Phoebe in particular were having a blast trying to see who could get closer to the stage and take a better video. But Bonnibel was really only paying half of her attention to the music. The rest of her attention was focused on trying not to completely self combust under Marceline's gaze.

The bassist wouldn't stop _staring_ at her.

When Marceline wasn't interacting with the crowd, her eyes always fell back to Bonnibel. She'd sing through the chorus of her songs, move in really close to the microphone, and peek up at Bonnibel through her lashed, smirking deliciously while she masterfully handled her instrument. There were also a few moments where it was just so darn obvious that Marceline was picking Bonnibel out of the crowd and either winking at her, singing at her, smiling at her, or even just trying to show off in front of her. Bonnibel didn't think it was a coincidence that Marceline hopped up on one of the amps closest to Bonnibel, tipped her bass in the senior's direction, and proceeded to fall into a wicked bass solo that was just dripping in sex appeal. Maybe it was the deadly combination of Marceline's voice, her playing, and how she looked up on that stage, but Bonnibel was starting to feel the frustration mount to incredible heights.

Bonnibel didn't actually have a solid plan when she decided to come here. Only that it would certainly take Marceline by surprise and serve her right for thinking she had any control over Bonnibel. While it worked for a brief moment, Marceline seemed to be promptly taking that control back through all her baiting and teasing. It felt like this constant tug of war between the two of them and it was all starting to become infuriating.

It hadn't become apparent until how much Bonnibel absolutely _hated_ beating around the bush. This was starting to get ridiculous and she needed to do something about it quick before she completely lost it.

The band's last song had finally ended on one last riff from the guitarist and one impressively long note from Marceline. The band had done their outros and their bows and Marceline had quickly advertised the band's up and coming EP before finally queuing the DJ to turn the club music back on. It wasn't until everyone's attention had turned away from the stage and all the band members started unplugging their instruments that Marceline made eye contact with Bonnibel again, darted her eyes over to the door leading to the back of the club, and jutted her chin towards them with a smile.

Bonnibel felt the blood rush to her face and merely blinked angrily in response.

Someone was tugging on her elbow. "Hey Bubs," Finn said. "We're gonna go dance for a bit. Wanna come?"

She shook her head slowly and started climbing down from the couch. "N-No, uh...I've gotta go to the, um — ahem, the bathroom. Really quick, I promise."

She didn't wait for a response before she started pushing through the dancing and gyrating bodies and started making her way towards the back of the club. The band members were still there trying to pack up their things, but Marceline was noticeably absent. Bonnibel frowned. Of course. Figures she'd want to arrange a silly little meeting between the two of them in the back of a club like this was some illicit hook up.

The door that Marceline had been eyeing led to a long hallway with bathrooms, a door that led to the alley on the side of the club, and what looked to be a break room for all the bands that were scheduled to play here. The break room was the only room that was opened and had light filtering out of it, so Bonnibel figured that was her best bet. She adjusted her skirt and her outfit for a moment before slamming the door open and making a loud entrance.

Marceline was in the corner of her room sticking her bass back into its case and fastening the clamps along the side. She didn't turn away as she smiled. "So? How did you enjoy the show, Princess?"

Bonnibel wasn't in the mood for playing coy. "What are you playing at?

"What?" Marceline laughed in response. "I honestly want to know what you thought. Had a few new songs mixed in there, I could use the opinion from...an apparent fan," she finished with a leer.

"You didn't answer my question," Bonnibel argued back.

Marceline turned and leaned back against the wall. "I'm not playing at anything, sugar cube. If anything, I should be asking _you_ what you're playing at. Showing up to one of my shows? Yeah, that's definitely not cause for alarm."

"Because…." Bonnibel hesitated, struggling for an answer. "Because...you're being confusing!"

"Oh, _I'm_ being confusing?" Marceline snorted and crossed her arms. "I'd love to hear this."

"Don't play innocent," Bonnibel demanded. "All of that eye sex and flirting and staring while you were on stage? And just _leaving me_ last night against a wall after you went through the trouble working me up….and just walking away like nothing happened?" Bonnibel almost reached up and grabbed at her hair. "I mean who _does_ that? It's like you're trying to torture me because you think it's funny."

Marceline pouted. "Aw, did I leave you all turned on and frustrated last night?"

Bonnibel stepped further into the room. "Of course you did!" she replied angrily. "You knew exactly what you were doing."

The singer's eyebrows both went up and she chortled in amusement. "Well. At least you're not denying it. That's certainly some progress. But, I'm still a little unclear on why you even came here."

Bonnibel hesitated. She hadn't worked that out completely herself, but she wasn't about to let Marceline know that. "I...want you to take responsibility!"

"Responsibility, ah?" Marceline responded. She pushed herself off of the wall and approached Bonnibel slowly, making the younger girl unwittingly take a step back in response. "And what exactly do I need to take responsibility for?"

The slowly clicks of Marceline's heels against the floor resounded loudly through the room while the muffled hum of the club music shook the door Bonnibel had closed behind her. But she didn't falter and raised her chin definately. "You can't just taunt someone because it's amusing to you," Bonnibel said. "If this whole thing is just a game to you then I'm not playing."

"What if I'm not playing a game?"

"Then I wouldn't believe you!"

"Why not?"

"Because! Anyone who's serious wouldn't be playing a cat and mouse game like this. Why can't you just be straightforward?"

Marceline walked closer, expecting for the two of them to keep up the dance of Marceline taking one step forward while Bonnibel took one step backward towards the door. But, as if to prove her point, Bonnibel finally stopped and remained planted in place until Marceline had finally walked close enough to literally be toe to toe with Bonnibel. Memories of last night when the singer had her pinned up against the wall of her dorm buildings, feeling her lips and her breath ghosting over her neck, and feeling her nails scratch lightly over the bare skin of her hips. She could already feel her skin prickling, expecting Marceline to reach out again and go through a repeat performance despite her additional annoyance.

The singer glanced down Bonnibel's body. "You talk like you wanted me to jump you last night."

"Not jump me," Bonnibel muttered. "Just...finish what you started."

"Ah," Marceline hummed in interest. Her eyes came back up to Bonnibel's. "Feeling a little bolder, are we?"

"What are you talking about?"

Marceline shrugged. She flipped her long, loose hair over her shoulder and sighed in exasperation. "For someone who's begging me to be straightforward, you aren't exactly following your own advice." She leaned down until her lips were right next to Bonnibel's ear. "I mean, you were talking about how horrible, infuriating, and rude I am, yet you were moaning rather prettily when I had you against the wall." She snickered. "Maybe I wasn't being straightforward because _you_ weren't being straightforward."

Bonnibel's mouth was already starting to go a little dry, but she refused to lose her composure. "So, what? You're saying this is _my_ fault?"

"It's not a matter of whose fault it is, sweetheart," Marceline explained softly. "It's all a matter of honesty. Because, if you'd like me to fuck you, all you have to do is ask."

It didn't seem possible, but the words felt like they had reverberated throughout Bonnibel's entire body until she started to feel herself getting warm underneath her skirt. Good grief, if that wasn't what she wanted. Oh, she would absolutely _love_ that right about now. Screw the location and screw her pride. There was only so much she could take. Still, she swallowed roughly, wincing at the dryness of her throat, and muttered, "Isn't it inappropriate for a university employee to be fraternizing with a student?"

Marceline rolled her eyes and smirked. "Come on now, Bonnie," Marceline answered. "Now you're just coming up with excuses for the sake of being annoying."

Well, she couldn't exactly argue with that. She had to at least try and make it seem like she wasn't being too eager. But Marceline was right, there was no use in it anymore.

Marceline's eyes had darted down to Bonnibel's lips, and the student immediately licked them out of instinct, gasping in deeply to try and temper the anticipation that was coiling up inside of her, ready to burst. The sight must have looked a lot more tantalizing than Bonnibel had meant for it to be because Marceline immediately bit at the corner of her lip and let out a small, quiet groan from the back of her throat. She let out a breath and whispered hoarsely, "Dammit, princess, if you're gonna ask, you better do it now."

The impatience was clearly becoming infectious, and if Marceline had no interest in prolonging things anymore, than neither did Bonnibel. She slowly reached a hand up and brushed it along Marceline's shoulder, marveling at the sinfully smooth skin she could finally run her hands along without any interruption. Her fingers crawled slowly along the curve of Marceline's collarbone and around the back of her neck. There, she grabbed a small handful of hair and tugged gently so that Marceline's lips were aligned right in front of her own. Marceline's hand immediately darted to Bonnibel's hip and caressed the curve of her hip while Bonnibel silently keened at the feeling of Marceline's hands on her body again.

She nibbled on her lip, stood on her toes, and kept her lips only a centimeter away from Marceline's. The tension in Marceline's body was apparent while she waited for some signal from Bonnibel. The senior sighed out, letting her breath furl against the singer's lips, and whispered, "Then I'm asking. Please?"

Bonnibel didn't have time to think before she felt Marceline grab her waist with both hands, pull her into her hips, and finally lean in to give Bonnibel the knee buckling kiss she'd been waiting for.

**OOO**

-Lol, I'm a bitch :P But this chapter was getting way too long. Good news is that something _very_ nice is happening in the next chapter.


	4. Part IV

**a/n: **This is essentially the dirtiest thing I've ever written in my life. What would my mother say?

**Warnings: **This is basically a long ass chapter full of smut. You're welcome :)

**OOO**

Escort

Part IV

**OOO**

Bonnibel didn't think a simple kiss could be so freaking glorious enough to make her toes curl in her boots and her fingers furl deeper into Marceline's hair, but this one was and the only thing that was hammering itself through her head was the question of why she hadn't bothered to do this sooner — preferably last night. Maybe then she could have gotten the real thing a hell of a lot sooner. But, better late than never — cliched as it was — seemed to fit the situation perfectly.

Her bottom lip was caught between Marceline's, and their lips kept locking and unlocking, their wet lips making delicious smacking sounds to the beat of the music pounding just outside the break room door. Marceline's fingers were digging hard into Bonnibel's waist and her other hand was sliding up the girl's back, running her thumb just underneath Bonnibel's bra strap and back down the curve of her spine. The singer slowed their kiss down, kept Bonnibel's bottom lip between her own, and sucked on it hard, making Bonnibel drop her mouth open and moan rather loudly into the room.

Marceline chuckled against her lips and shushed her. "Careful. Don't want anyone to find us in here."

Not at all pleased to find the kiss stopping, Bonnibel slid her lips down until she caught Marceline's bottom lip between her teeth and pulled slowly. Marceline's eyes fluttered closed and a deep groan sounded from the back of her throat. Bonnibel kissed the bite sweetly and looked up at the taller girl. "Follow your own advice, show off."

A small growl rumbled from Marceline's throat. She brought both of her hands down and let them trace Bonnibel's sides — down into the dip of her waist, down the swell of her hips, and back until she was cupping her ass through her skirt. Marceline smirked and grabbed both of her cheeks roughly, a loud smack echoing through the room when her hands made impact. Bonnibel gasped again and instinctively thrust her hips forward into Marceline's into a slow grind.

Marceline ripped her mouth away from Bonnibel's and put her lips against her ear. "Shut that foul mouth of yours and let me do my work."

Bonnibel had a comeback on her tongue, but it was immediately forgotten when she started to feel Marceline kiss down her neck, far more insistently and clearly than the kisses she had left her last night. The musician's tongue was lapping along her neck before placing large, open mouthed kisses against her skin. Bonnibel was almost completely lost in the feelings before she felt Marceline's teeth nip roughly at a patch of skin near her collarbone. Bonnibel had never liked biting — she'd gone through a trial and error period to know that much for sure — and she was about to push the musician away, but then Marceline started to _suck_ and suddenly the senior found herself having a hard time shutting up.

It felt amazing — the tugging and biting on her skin mixed with the subsequent kissing and sucking was putting Bonnibel's body on high alert, and she suddenly started to feel herself throbbing. She still had all of her clothes on and Marceline was already turning her into a right mess.

Marceline switched to the other side of her neck and winced in pleasure when she started leaving another bite on her neck that she was sure was gonna bruise. "Geez," she breathed out, "you're like a vampire."

The singer chuckled against Bonnibel's neck and left what Bonnibel was sure was going to be a sizeable hickey in the morning. However, she could care less about what it would look like in the morning because at the moment, Marceline had left her with her knees buckling. She immediately fell into Marceline's body and the older woman quickly grabbed her by the hips and kept her steady. Marceline licked a trail up from Bonnibel's collarbone all the way to her jaw before muttering, "You're not the first person to make the comparison."

Not trusting the air to hold them up anymore, Marceline backed Bonnibel up to the left until the younger woman's back collided with the edge of a desk with a mirror attached that was meant to serve as a vanity. Bonnibel immediately pushed herself up so that she was sitting on the edge and let her legs fall open so that Marceline could nestle herself comfortably in between them.

The musician moved back to kiss her sloppily, finally slipping her tongue inside just enough to lightly brush it along the inside of Bonnibel's lips. Bonnibel opened her mouth wider and tipped her head to the side to give Marceline more room while she boldly ran her tongue along Marceline's. Bonnibel's back immediately knocked up against the mirror behind her and she groaned deeply when she felt Marceline's nails rake up her thigh and lift it so that her foot was hooked onto the edge of the table.

Bonnibel's underwear was stretched uncomfortably against her soaked lips and she whined at the feeling. Marceline smiled and pulled away from the kiss, taking a moment to leer at Bonnibel's outfit — from the crop top all the way down to the school girl skirt.

She bit her lips as Marceline lifted the pleated skirt with her fingertips and let it flutter back against her legs. "I fucking _love_ you in this," Marceline muttered. She hiked the skirt up so that Bonnibel's underwear was in clear view, slightly see through from all the wetness accumulating near her center. Marceline reached over and teasingly placed a kiss on the inside of Bonnibel's knee. "You're seriously into this whole 'innocent student' schtick, aren't you?"

Bonnibel blushed and bit her lip as the bassist starting to kiss higher up her thigh. "N-No, I'm not," she muttered, looking up to the ceiling and praying for some strength so she could stop her trembling. "I just...wanted to look...oh _fuck_...nice."

The older woman was humming into Bonnibel's skin, sounding entirely unconvinced. "I didn't know short skirts and crop tops were your deal." She nipped teasingly at the sensitive skin of Bonnibel's inner thigh, and the senior immediately moaned and let her leg fall open a little wider. "I mean, it's not like I mind," Marceline continued. "You should prance around in this kind of thing more often."

Her breath was furling against Bonnibel's underwear, and it was starting to become the most frustrating thing she'd ever felt in her life. She had half a mind to hook a foot around Marceline's neck and just shove her mouth forward to where Bonnibel _really_ wanted it. She leaned back and knocked her head against the mirror behind her and choked back a whimper when she felt Marceline lick a line against the hem of her underwear.

"Geez," Marceline leered. "You look pissed…"

Bonnibel glared in between her legs. "Because you're incorrigible…"

Marceline chuckled. "Well, _that's_ a word for you." She shrugged and wrapped her arm under and around Bonnibel's leg that was still dutifully hiked up high for easy access. "But I guess you deserve something after all the effort you put in to come down here." Marceline took that moment to slide her tongue against her underwear — from the bottom of Bonnibel's lips all the way to the top where her clitoris was begging to be touched. Bonnibel sighed loudly, shuddering with the effort, and gripped the edge of the table with white knuckles. "What do you say to that?" Marceline continued.

Bonnibel nodded frantically and hummed through her bitten lips. Marceline must have found the sight amusing, because Bonnibel _felt_ Marceline's laughter vibrate through her core as the musician's lips were still rested against her underwear. Her tongue was tracing the fabric of her underwear again until they reached the top and made a leisurely circle around Bonnibel's clit. Her lips closed around the bundle of nerves that was poking through the fabric and sucked on it hard. Bonnibel meant to cover her mouth, but her hand wasn't listening to her brain anymore, and her sharp groan of surprise echoed loudly in the room.

Her hips immediately canted forward, trying to push Marceline closer, trying to get her to put more pressure, trying to get her to just take her damn underwear off already. But Marceline seemed to purposefully be doing the exact opposite of what Bonnibel was thinking, because Marceline was purposefully dancing her tongue around her clit and over her entrance and avoiding any purposeful attention.

Marceline's fingers reached up to the edge of her underwear, lifted it up, and snapped it back against Bonnibel's waist. "You really want me to take these off, don't you?"

Bonnibel sighed out and moaned, but Marceline merely shook her head and snapped her underwear again. Harder. Bonnibel flinched and was surprised to feel her clit throb in response.

"I can't hear you, sugar cube," Marceline chided, sliding a finger gently across Bonnibel's clit and making the girl practically scream in frustration. "I'm an auditory learner. Musician and all that…"

Bonnibel heard herself growl and she pushed her hips forward on the table. "Take them off," she replied in a breathy voice. "Please just take them off."

Marceline's chuckle was positively delighted and she smacked the side of Bonnibel's thigh. "Lift your hips, babe."

Bonnibel immediately complied and felt the cotton slip down her legs until it was hanging uselessly around one of her ankles. Marceline stared in between her legs like she was appreciating some delicious meal, and immediately bent down to trace her tongue along the outside of her slit.

Just that simple phantom touch that was skirting around where Bonnibel really wanted Marceline's tongue to go was still freaking _fantastic._ She'd never had someone's smooth tongue down there before and it felt so much better than anything Bonnibel was capable of with her own fingers. Marceline then placed her tongue right near Bonnibel's entrance and swirled her tongue around the opening. Bonnibel cried out and hooked her foot that was propped up on the table behind Marceline's head.

Marceline licked up all the wetness there, savoring the taste and moaning while she did it, before the tip of her tongue moved inside of Bonnibel and curled upwards. Bonnibel immediately reached out to run her fingers through Marceline's hair and sighed out at the sensation of feeling something to warm and slick moving inside of her. She moved her hips even closer to the edge of the table and gently pushed her foot against Marceline's head, pushing her closer to her center.

Her tongue travelled upwards until it brushed just over Bonnibel's clit. Her tongue immediately went to work — circling, flicking, and even closing her lips around the nub and sucking on it hard before returning to her previous ministrations.

Damn it all, she was driving Bonnibel absolutely mad. Nothing had ever felt like this, and good _God_ it was so fantastic that she didn't understand why she insisted on staying single so long and depriving herself of this. Marceline was just as good as Bonnibel imagined and her moans and groans and sighs were reaching new volumes that she wasn't even aware she was capable of. Marceline didn't seem to mind the noise. If anything it just made her laugh and look up at Bonnibel with deep captivating eyes.

The musician reached up, and slid her finger along Bonnibel's lips without putting it inside. "You really wanted this, didn't you?"

Bonnibel didn't answer, and Marceline ripped her tongue away, making Bonnibel sob and sigh in disappointment. Her foot pushed against Marceline again. "No, no, no, please," she begged. She was just starting to feel the tension that meant her orgasm was close and coming, and all of a sudden the high was coming down.

"Answer me," Marceline said in a sing-song voice. Her finger started making small circles in and out of her lips, touching everywhere except the important parts that Bonnibel really cared about. "You were thinking long and hard about this, weren't you?"

Bonnibel bit her bottom lip painfully and nodded. "Yes," she said, shame completely forgotten. "Yes, yes, I thought about it. _God_, yes I thought about it."

Marceline's tongue circled around her clit again. "Bet you buried your pretty little fingers deep inside you and thought about me fucking you, right?"

Bonnibel moaned out and nodded once more. "Mmhm," she mumbled.

The tip of the bassists finger breached Bonnibel's entrance and the stretch made her legs fall open as wide as they could possibly go. Her head was leaning so far back into the mirror, she was afraid it might break. "How badly do you want me to fuck you, princess?" Marceline sighed out, pushing her finger in so freaking _slowly_ Bonnibel thought she might cry.

"So badly," Bonnibel mumbled out in a rush of words. "So, so badly, please..._fuck!_"

Marceline smiled devilishly and pushed her finger in deeper until it was all the way in, and Bonnibel relished how long her fingers were and how _deep_ she could get. Her finger curled up teasingly against her g-spot and Bonnibel whimpered at the sensation. "Tell me you want me to fuck you," Marceline told her.

There was no telling beforehand that Marceline liked talking dirty in the middle of sex and Bonnibel personally thought that it was always rather crude. But every word that Marceline uttered made her throb and made her get wetter, and the desperation was growing inside of her. All she wanted to do was come, and Marceline wouldn't let her unless she answered back. For someone who was so used to running the show and being in charge, Bonnibel had absolutely no problems begging for Marceline to touch her and doing exactly what she said.

Bonnibel stared down at Marceline's eyes and said, "I want you to fuck me."

Her finger started moving faster. "Tell me you want me to fuck you _hard._"

Bonnibel slammed her head back against the mirror again and said through gritted teeth, "I want you to fuck me hard…" she hissed.

Seeming pleased, Marceline shrugged and quickly pushed in three fingers with no warning.

The intrusion made Bonnibel's mouth oped widely, and she immediately fell bonelessly against the mirror and smiled in victory as she rocked her hips and grinded on Marceline's fingers. They were moving furiously in and out of her, occasionally brushing the top of her walls and assaulting her g-spot with seasoned accuracy. Marceline was also using her tongue to lavish as much attention on Bonnibel's clit as she could. There was so much sucking and licking and brushing and moving and Bonnibel didn't quite know what to do with any parts of her body because her brain couldn't focus for long enough to tell her.

It didn't take long before she was starting to feel that familiar rush of tightness pull in her abdomen and she could feel her walls clenching tightly around Marceline's fingers. She was gasping for breath and couldn't get enough oxygen into her lungs. She was going to go out of her mind if her orgasm didn't come soon and her fingers tightened painfully in Marceline's hair.

The musician groaned in response, and her fingers began thrusting frantically. Marceline took her clit and gently pinched it between her teeth, letting her tongue flick against it mercilessly. The sensation of teeth made Bonnibel literally sob and she clenched Marceline's hair tighter.

It didn't take long before a wonderful eruption of warmth came over her and Bonnibel's back arched off of the mirror sharply as she screamed into the room. Her toes curled in her boots as she came and her walls convulsed around Marceline's fingers which were still moving insistently inside of her. It felt like it would never end. The overwhelming peak of her pleasure just kept going and going and it didn't feel like she was ever going to come down from it, and holy _shit_ she had never had an orgasm this long and this good in her life.

It felt like a whole minute before her body finally relaxed and Bonnibel blinked her eyes rapidly, suddenly realizing that her vision was just a little dazed. She made little noises in the back of her throat every time her walls clenched tightly due to the aftershock. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Marceline stand up from the floor, take her soaked fingers, and put them in her mouth, making a show of sucking them clean of all of Bonnibel's juices.

It didn't make sense why such a sight was so erotic and enticing, but it was, and Bonnibel didn't waste anytime in hooking both of her boneless legs around Marceline's waist, pulling her hips flush against the table, and pulling her in for a kiss. Their teeth were clashing amidst their desperation, and Bonnibel moaned when she realized that Marceline's mouth tasted a little salty and that was _her_ on Marceline's tongue.

"Fuck, Bonnibel," Marceline muttered in between kisses. "You're gonna kill me, you know that?"

Bonnibel scoffed. "Please, you don't know half of the torment you put me through."

Marceline hummed in interest. "Mm, torment, huh? Do elaborate…"

"You totally waited for me to come to you," Bonnibel accused.

Their noses were bumping together and their lips were hovering just centimeters apart while Marceline pulled Bonnibel's shirt up past her breasts and towards her neck so that her bra was exposed. Bonnibel got the hint and discarded the shirt altogether, sighing when Marceline leaned down and started placing kissed along the curve of her breasts.

Marceline bit at the skin of her left breast and brought another hand up behind her to undo the clasp of her bra. "So what if I was?"

The lace fabric immediately fell away and Marceline was quick to bring her tongue out to lick, nip, and suck on the nipple of her left breast while slowly circling and rubbing her thumb across the one on her right. Bonnibel tried to bite back her moans and clear her throat so that she could keep talking. "That was a...mph...a low blow," she managed to get out.

"Oh really?" Marceline spoke in between licks. "And what are you going to do about it?" Her other hand was moving now — touching her stomach, circling her belly button, letting her nails rake along the her waist and hips. It would have been so easy to just let Marceline take care of her and let herself be absolutely ravaged, but Bonnibel still felt like she had a point to make.

Trying to be as covert as possible to as to take Marceline by surprise, Bonnibel lifted up a knee and nudged it into Marceline's hip, pushing away from the desk and ripping her mouth away from her chest. She was still heaving and trying to gasp for breath — and she wasn't sure whether the sight of her without a shirt on was ridiculous or enticing — but Bonnibel still managed to slide off of the table and plant her hands on Marceline's shoulders. Bonnibel marched her backwards and to the left until she had the bassist leaning against another table tucked into the corner of the room. It sounded as if Marceline's lower back hit the edge of the table pretty hard, but the musician barely winced. She merely bit her lips at the sensation and looked at Bonnibel like she was a curious little toy.

"Oh, I see what this is," Marceline drawled. "Payback, huh?"

Bonnibel frowned and didn't look away from Marceline's face as she reached down, unbuttoned Marceline's pants and slowly peeled the tight leather down to her knees. "I'm sort of sick of this whole 'innocent little sugar cube' thing you think I have going on," Bonnibel responded. She grabbed the edge of the pants and pulled them off until they were pooling around Marceline's ankles.

Marceline took the hint, toed off her heels, and flicked the pants towards the other side of the room. She leaned back into the table, canted her hips forward, and let her knees drop open a little wider. "That wasn't _exactly_ what I meant," she clarified. "Though, I kinda like this annoyed, aggressive Bonnie. It's cute…"

_Cute_ wasn't exactly a compliment. If anything, it came off as condescending — like Bonnibel was this cute little college girl with a crush on an older woman that Marceline loved to rile up and get angry and see her stamp her pretty little feet. Bonnibel certainly didn't appreciate the comparison. She may not have done anything like this before, but that didn't mean she wasn't a quick learner and couldn't come up with a good way to shut Marceline up very quickly and prove her wrong.

Bonnibel was on her knees and she licked a trail from the bottom hem of Marceline's corset, down her stomach, around her navel, and along the line of her thong. Marceline was smiling at the sight, sighing and tipping her head back to expose the long column of her neck.

While she was busy placing kissed all over Marceline's stomach, Bonnibel couldn't help but privately marvel at how smooth and marvelous her legs felt. Her hands were sliding up the backs of Marceline's calves, across the tops of her thighs, back down to her knees, and back up again. It was a strange thing to be fixated on, but Bonnibel immediately felt the desire to kiss lower and see how it would feel to press her lips against the skin.

She completely overlooked the front of Marceline's underwear as she started kissing from the front of Marceline's thighs to the inside of her thighs. Her nails dragged down the outside of the opposite thigh, and Bonnibel immediately heard a hiss come from Marceline that quickly tapered off into a moan.

Bonnibel lifted her head and looked up at the musician. She grinned when she saw that Marceline was actually biting her lip and wincing at the sound that had just left her throat. Bonnibel dragged her nails down her thigh again and kissed her inner thighs once more, and got a similar reaction.

"Are your thighs sensitive?" Bonnibel grinned.

Marceline rolled her eyes. "Don't you start…" she drawled.

But Bonnibel merely smirked and reached down to bite down at the skin of Marceline's inner thigh and sucking on the thin skin there. Marceline immediately smacked her fist on the table and groaned, pushing her legs open wider. Bonnibel kept creeping up her leg higher, leaving marks and bruises as she went and feeling herself start to get wet again when she heard how much Marceline was carrying on. For someone so cocky and confident when it came to approaching Bonnibel, she sure did moan loudly.

Bonnibel was licking along the lining of Marceline's underwear and she could faintly taste the musician's wetness seeping through her underwear and near the apex of her thighs. She kept biting and sucking on a patch of skin on Marceline's thigh while Bonnibel pulled her underwear to the side and immediately pushed two fingers inside.

Marceline moaned towards the ceiling. "Holy _shit_, Bonnie," she groaned, looking down at the girl and biting her lips hard enough to make them bleed. Bonnibel had never fingered a girl before this moment, but she tried to remember what Marceline did to her and what she usually did to herself. She scissored her fingers inside before slamming them back upwards, and curled her fingers to rub against her walls. Bonnibel clutched onto one of Marceline's ass cheeks and pulled her closer to her face so that Bonnibel could move her mouth from her legs and to her clit, throbbing prettily right in front of her nose.

The wet sounds of her fingers entering and exiting were making Bonnibel want to reach between her legs and rub herself to get rid of the ache that was quickly growing once more. But she tried to put all of her attention on lapping up all the juices that were dripping down her fingers and on her tongue. She wasn't sure why, but the sweet, musky, salty taste of Marceline made her moan around the musicians clit, making her moan above her and push Bonnibel's face in closer to her.

"Goddammit, Bonnie, how have you not done this before?" Marceline chuckled in between gasps.

Bonnibel thrust her fingers in roughly and smiled at the lively response that she got. "I'm a quick learner," she said, probably looking downright debauched with her shirt off, her fingers inside her, and her tongue working mercilessly on her.

Then, without warning, Marceline immediately pulled Bonnibel away from her and pushed her down onto the carpet so that she was leaning on her back. Her head hit the carpet roughly and she was about to complain about the sudden treatment, but then Marceline was pulling her underwear completely off, crawling on top of Bonnibel, and throwing one of Bonnibel's legs over her shoulder. Marceline settled herself comfortably against Bonnibel's hips, grabbed the ankle that was pressing into her shoulder, and thrust her hips forward.

"Oh, _God!_" Bonnibel choked on a moan and let her head fall back onto the carpet. Marceline's fingers were digging into her calf as she braced herself and kept a steady rhythm of grinding her clit against Bonnibel's. Marceline's other hand was digging painfully into Bonnibel's hip, but the student couldn't bring herself to care as she leaned up on her elbows and purposefully pushed her hips upward to press their pelvises together with more pressure, more rubbing, and more sliding.

Marceline combed back her sweat matted hair and placed hurried sloppy kisses against Bonnibel's calf until her thrusts started to get increasingly frantic and haphazard. But Bonnibel didn't seem to care in the least because the angle was absolutely delicious and it felt fucking brilliant. She didn't know how but suddenly her orgasm was looming again, and she heard herself crying out and moaning into the room while Marceline whispered sweet encouraging words into her skin and groaned through her own pleasure.

It didn't take long before Marceline moaned sharply and slammed her hips forward a couple of more times until she suddenly froze and shouted out, ducking her head and squeezing Bonnibel's hip hard enough to bruise while she finally rode out her orgasm. Suddenly, Bonnibel just thought that Marceline looked perfect with her cheeks flushed and her hair all messy and looking just the complete opposite of that perfect infuriating person she'd always been. She grabbed her waist and pulled the musician into a kiss with clashing teeth and too much tongue, burying her hands in her hair, and wrapping a leg around her hip.

Marceline immediately smiled into the kiss, reached a hand down between them and rubbed Bonnibel vigorously until she was coming hard only a few seconds later, arching her back and gasping desperately into Marceline's mouth.

Bonnibel fell back into the carpet and smirked tiredly when Marceline chuckled breathlessly and let her forehead fall against Bonnibel's shoulder. She was started to feel the various aches and pains all over her body: the fingerprint shaped bruises that were probably peppering her hips, her lips that she had bit on too hard, and the hickeys all over her neck. But Bonnibel couldn't bring herself to care about any of that because she couldn't remember the last time she had ever felt this good. If anything, she was sure she had _never_ felt this good.

Marceline turned her head so that she was facing Bonnibel and kept laughing. "Damn, my band must be wondering what the hell happened to me…"

She wasn't sure why that was so funny, but Bonnibel could just picture her band carting around their instruments and looking for their front woman, not realizing that she was stuck in a break room in the back of a club having sex with a student from the university she worked at. It all sounded so ludicrous in her head that Bonnibel also dissolved into laughter, her chest shaking against Marceline's. "Do you ditch them often?"

Marceline shook her head. "No, this would _definitely_ be the first time. At least like this." She propped her chin up on Bonnibel's chest. "A pleasant surprise, don't get me wrong, but...definitely unexpected."

Bonnibel darted her eyes over to the wall next to her. "I mean...I wasn't really sure what else to do. I wasn't sure if you were teasing or being serious, so I...kind of came here to make sure."

Marceline's eyes widened. "So the plan was to have sex to check to see if I was being serious with you or not?"

"No! No, no," Bonnibel quickly added. "I only meant to come and _talk_ to you. But…" she cleared her throat. "Things got out of hand."

The musician looked down at their half dressed state and snorted. "Yeah. I'd say that's accurate."

"I wasn't trying to jump you," Bonnibel explained. "I just wanted to know if...if you were just messing around with me because it was funny."

Marceline huffed and looked at Bonnibel imploringly. "Well, rest assured. I do find it incredibly amusing to mess around with you."

Bonnibel rolled her eyes, but Marceline laughed and put a hand on Bonnibel's cheek. "Hold on, sugar cube, hold on. That doesn't mean I wasn't serious about you. I don't pursue people as a joke. Not my style."

Bonnibel frowned suspiciously. "So you _are_ serious…"

Marceline's hands were straying from Bonnibel's cheek and making it's way to curl around loose strands of her hair. "Despite the whole allure of the rock star lifestyle — which, don't me wrong, is pretty fucking sweet — I don't sleep around with groupies and random little college girls to get my kicks," she explained.

Bonnibel blinked. "...oh."

"That's all you gotta say? 'Oh'?" Marceline laughed.

"Well, I don't know, I don't _do_ this stuff often," Bonnibel excused herself. "So...yeah. Oh."

Marceline shook her head fondly. "I don't know Bonnie. You came in here looking all...intense and on a mission. Are you positive you don't do this stuff often?" she mocked.

"Oh please," Bonnibel scowled. "The intensity was entirely your fault. You left me no choice."

Marceline nodded with a smile. "Oh yeah. Sure…"

Bonnibel slapped Marceline's shoulder, but suddenly found herself smiling, finding Marceline's sarcasm less annoying and more endearing. Maybe it was the sex. Or maybe she was just getting used to it by now.

"Well," Marceline announced, sitting on Bonnibel's lap and adjusting the corset that had slid down lower than it was meant to amidst their activities. "I know this is technically us doing things backwards, but I was wondering if you wanted to grab some lunch tomorrow."

Bonnibel blinked. She sat up straight and looked up at Marceline. "Lunch?"

Marceline shrugged simply and started combing her fingers through her hair. "Yeah, just lunch. Or coffee. Or whatever you want really. Or we don't really have to do anything. We could just hang out around the city. I mean, I'm not working tomorrow and I doubt you have class. So...yeah."

"Woah," Bonnibel smirked. "Were you just rambling? You don't ramble. I do that."

"Shut up, you," Marceline glared softly. "I'm trying to ask you on a date and you're totally ruining it."

"Oh, wait, so this is you being serious."

"Yeah. A date is like the definition of serious. I mean, ok, not really. But you know."

Bonnibel laughed and tipped her head up to give Marceline a short kiss. "Yeah, I know."

Marceline looked at her expectantly. "So?"

Bonnibel laughed breathlessly and stared down at her lap, answering honestly. "I wasn't expecting you to ask me out."

Marceline tipped Bonnibel's chin up and grinned. "Are you kidding? Of course I was planning to ask you out. Why wouldn't I?"

"I dunno," Bonnibel responded quietly. "I don't...usually get a lot of dates. Bookworm and all that," Bonnibel said with an eye roll.

"Well," Marceline announced, wrapping her arms around Bonnibel's waist. "Allow me to rectify that. If you'll let me. Plus…" she added, letting her hands wander down Bonnibel's back, gently enough to cause shivers to run through her body. "We could always have a little "intense" fun later on...and whenever you want, of course," she smirked.

Bonnibel grinned stupidly and leaned up for another kiss. Oh yeah. That sounded just fine to her.

**OOO**

**a/n: **Blah, holy shit, that took longer to finish than I thought it would. Anyway! Thanks so much for all of the enthusiastic reviews. I kinda just wanted to pump something out for this pairing to get out some of my excitement and I didn't expect it to be this popular. I really appreciate all the support. Thanks for reading!


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